To Those Who Will Listen
by golaudydd
Summary: A young, though fairly seasoned mage makes her way to Icecrown in an attempt to either rescue or simply see if she is slowly going mad. AN: The inspiration for this comes from friend Eventide! She's awesome! Rated for possible M content later.
1. Ordinary Day

Iyvee looked down at the goblin and cocked a brow. "Three-hundred gold pieces for this hunk of scrap?" She eyeballed the iron contraption and shook her head. Doing jobs for people were never good for one's sanity, especially when it was something so specific. "I'll give you one-fifty."

The goblin nearly choked on his smoothie fruity something or other drink that another goblin had brought over from a nearby vendor (who was also selling mutton, which made Iyvee realize that she hadn't eaten in a while. The bonus to goblins is that they didn't seem to sell bad or worthless things. They liked money, making money, and keeping it that way. Although, there were some…). "One- fifty?! Are you out of your mind, mage?" He snorted once and patted the side of the side of the meat smoker. "It's worth twice what I want for it! I'll take nothing less."

Ah, so that's how he wanted to play. Bargaining was a game. Much like poker in which you never knew who was bluffing. In this case, Iyvee did: She'd spoken to a few cooks who'd warned her about this one. Smarken o' Booty was his name and was good at screwing over new adventurers and those new to their ranks. Iyvee smirked lightly, folding her arms over her chest. "I think you need to re-evaluate your business relationships with your cohorts in Booty Bay. A cook I may not be, but I've befriended a few in my travels. You got taken for a ride on the price of this, and I refuse to give you twice the profit of what it's worth. Iron isn't difficult to come by—imported or not. Either you'll take one-fifty or I'll take my business elsewhere and let the patrons know just how much of a shyster you are."

Smarken snorted, sipping on his drink again. "Really? Who do you think you are, mage? Nobody knows you. Why would they believe you?"

"Why would they believe a goblin who's known to rip people off?" He sat his tankard down looking slightly ashen (as ashen as a goblin could get, one would suppose) and gulped as Iyvee rested her hands on her hips, her expression lightly smug. "Oh yes, Smarken. They talk about you. I'd be careful of who you choose to talk back to. Your money might not be the only thing they'll be after if you pick the wrong customer."

The goblin wrinkled his face in a weird sort of grimace. He knew he'd failed and knew that he had to watch himself… at least for the moment. This blood elf wasn't as dumb as blood elves tended to look. "Fine," he sighed. "One-hundred fifty gold. But—you find your own way of getting it to wherever you need it to go." He inwardly chuckled. The mage was a tiny thing, no more than five foot and maybe a hundred pounds on a good day. Mages couldn't transport objects with their powers.

Iyvee grinned, plopping the gold coins into his hand. "Fair enough." She turned toward the meat vendor, waving over two very large orc warriors who looked very much like twins, but sometimes it was hard to tell. She smiled at them, motioning toward the smoker. "Oy! Bruk, Fompu… Here is your new smoker, just like we discussed." The two grinned their orcish grins and nodded. Smarken looked flustered beyond belief and Iyvee shrugged. "They knew you wouldn't be fair with them and hadn't been in the past with much of their tribe. They didn't want to squeeze your brains out because you had this to sell and couldn't find another like it. I didn't feel the need to flash you or fireblast you for it."

Fompu was patting down the sides, making sure it was in good shape in all the right places—wheels and all. When he gave Bruk a thumbs-up, he grinned at Iyvee. "Dis good food smoker, Iyvee. Thank you for helping. Scummy goblin. Not others, just him. Mostly."

"Not a problem, guys. I hope this helps your storage for the season. Need a lift?" She held out her palm, aimed at an empty space near the road. "This will take you to Dalaran. The mages and warlocks there should be able to help you get it to Icecrown." A swirling glow surrounded both of her hands as she opened a portal for the orcs to pull their new purchase through. "Good luck." Iyvee waved as the orc brothers pushed their smoker through the portal, both looking pleased as punch.

"You come supper with us sometime, Miss Iyvee!" Bruk called out behind him just as the portal closed. And someday, she would.

As they went on their way, she turned back to the goblin. "Better some coin than none, I'd say. Stop getting yourself in over your head. Coin may not be the only thing you lose someday, goblin." He knew it would happen, sooner or later. Changing his ways was a whole other story and one that was likely not going to end well. He grumbled at the elf as she walked off and tried to figure out how he was going to live this down amongst his colleagues. Gossip ran rampant and the other patrons at the post didn't look incredibly thrilled with him, either.

A gust of wind flipped Iyvee's strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and she caught a whiff of mutton, spices and bread as she strode away towards the vendor with all of her money and one heck of an appetite. This would be fantastic…

Later that night, Iyvee tucked herself at the tavern in Silvermoon City. The evening seemed incredibly quiet, even for that place where something was always going on that generally ended with guards showing up to keep the peace for the night. Something felt strange and uneasy in the atmosphere, though she couldn't put a finger on it. She was becoming used to the snoring guest in the room across the way and was becoming wholly drowsy. Sleep came easily tonight, however fitful it soon became.

_"Iyvee? Are you okay? Can you hear me…?"_

_Valari. Iyvee hadn't seen her dear friend in ages, and it worried her in waking hours. And in this dream (it was a dream, wasn't it?) Valari sounded… defeated? It wasn't unusual for Val to do her own thing, go where she needed to and do what she needed to. What was unusual was the lack of word from her. How long had it been? Well over a month, Iyvee supposed._

_"He knows you, too."_

_He? He who? Surely not Vaspien. That was a matter best left to the past and their past. He was long gone with the winds and time and she'd finally moved forward._

_**"Don't be daft, girl," **stated a male voice loud and clear. One that Iyvee didn't recognize right away but, by the gods, it was incredibly familiar. **"There is nothing and no one left for you to care or fight for."** A deep chuckle. A mocking sound. **"And there is nothing and no one left to care or fight for you."**_

_"No!" Val sounded urgent. "Just… don't listen! Iyvee… Don't –"_

Iyvee sat up like a shot in her bed and blinked at a whole lot of darkness and odd silence. She felt strangely helpless and aggravated and never more alone in her life. It was a dream. A really bad, stupid dream all because of… "Of what?" she muttered to herself and to the quilt she was grasping at her chest. It was a simple nightmare. "Go back to sleep, dummy…"

And as she finally calmed herself enough to do just that, it occurred to her just whose voice it was that Valari's voice seemed so defeated of. A voice she'd only heard in her travels and had hoped to never hear it again. Iyvee's green eyes quickly opened. This had been no simple dream.

Arthas.


	2. Stumbling in the Dark

Sleep was lost on Iyvee for the remainder of the night as she tried to wrap her head around just what had happened. Two questions came to her. One: What reason would Arthas want to keep Valari? And two: Of all the beings in Azeroth, why Val? It occurred to Iyvee that one would think Arthas Menithil would have better things to do with his time than kidnap a warlock—for instance, taking over the world like he'd been trying to do. There were a lot of warlocks around. None of this made much sense.

Then again, a lot of things in these times and in this world didn't make much sense to her. Not anymore.

Running a hand over her face, Iyvee finally sat up in the bed as she noticed the near-black sky turning lighter shades of gray as daylight approached through the space between the thin drapes that covered the small window. Well, at least she'd gotten some sleep (though with the snoring beast across the hall, she wasn't sure how much more she would've gotten, anyway). The list of jobs she would be doing for individuals and for the Horde would have to wait. Her best friend was far more important than whatever trinket she could work for. After all--wasn't the end goal for everyone supposed to be to bring an end to the rule of the so-called Lich King? It was just that Iyvee's reason was now extended beyond what it used to be. He'd already destroyed her family. He wasn't going to take the family that she'd made in her friends, too. _'Bastard,' _she thought bitterly as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, pulled on her stockings, down her robes and felt around the floor with her feet in search of her shoes. Finding one, Iyvee slipped it on without too much hassle, but when it came to shoe number two, that was another thing altogether. Her stockinged toe caught the strap of her guitar which was leaning against the night stand next to her shoes. And as one could imagine, the lack of adequate light could be bothersome. So BONG! came down the guitar that Vaspien had given as a gift to her in her travels and FLIP went the shoe into the night stand which in turn knocked over the oil lamp—which by the grace of whatever deity of the day was present, wasn't lit.

"Damn stupid…" Iyvee huffed. "Can't possibly have fel lights around here. They're everywhere else. It's the bloody Alliance who keep their oil lamps and burn their homes to the ground." Who's idea was this mess? When she calmed herself for all of two seconds, Iyvee realized that no one had woken up from her musical debacle and she should leave before the roof came down instead.

Iyvee huffed and shoved her shoe on, grabbed her guitar strap and slung it over her shoulder. Thankfully her bag was settled on a shelf over the bed. The bag was small, but carried what she needed that was more important than to put into a bank. She stomped out of the inn, through the people still up and still drinking and still wanting her to perform for them. And not just sing. Grimacing, she hunkered down through the drunken stench and left the inn aiming directly for the cool morning air that would be fresh and welcome to her. Iyvee had one goal on her mind at this point and that was getting to Undercity. She had to speak with Sylvanas… one way or another.


	3. Giving a Damn

There was a line.

Iyvee stopped dead in her tracks as she ran across the old cobbles of the Undercity, which once held the mighty Lordaeron until the Scourge befell it. Her shoulders slumped, her expression mildly pained. She'd been to this place more than she'd like to admit and had never seen such a thing. What did they think this was? The line to see Greatfather Winter? Sylvanas didn't grant wishes.

She stood in the line for all of five minutes before becoming more and more frustrated and desperate as the seconds passed. Finally, she started for the front of the line, acting oblivious to the complaints from behind her and only stopping when a guard she'd assumed used to be towheaded stopped her by pointing a broadsword at her neck. She blinked and skittered to a stop. "'Ey," he grumbled. "Get back in that line, mage."

"You don't understand!" Iyvee held her ground as best she could. Granted, she could set him on fire or freeze him on the spot to give herself a good running start to Sylvanas, but that could also get her instantly killed. "It's an emergency! I have to talk to Lady Sylvanas."

The Forsaken guard looked at her incredulously. "And it's an emergency for the hundred people in front of you." He shook his sword at her. She imagined his name was Gerald, for some reason, and she managed to calm herself enough for him to lower his sword away from her throat. Her features, however, were still panicked.

"My friend is in danger. It's because of Arthas." Iyvee looked pained. She already hated this. The guard missing most of his teeth and a couple of fingers on his left hand wasn't making this particularly better. He glared at her as the name exited her lips and gave what Iyvee imagined was a sneer of a sort.

"Arthas?" he spat (or might if he had lips). The wheels were turning in his head: If it was some stupid blood elf making random half-assed pleas about some friend out on the battlefield, it'd be her head and his job if he let her through. However, if Arthas was up to something that might have the world end up worse for wear (far worse than it already was) and the Lady found out about it, it would be his head, instead. "Speak, mage." Some folks in line had taken an interest into the strange mage who appeared to be more bardic than arcane and her story. The line had grown mildly quiet.

Biting her lip, Iyvee take a deep breath. "Arthas has kidnapped my friend." Her green eyes were pleading.

"Arthas has kidnapped a lot of people," said someone in the back. "Why should your friend be any different than the rest of us?"

Iyvee shot a sidelong look. "Why would Arthas give a damn about one warlock in a world filled with others just as good or better? And make a point to invade minds and realities to make the point known?" She shook her head. "Arthas Menethil doesn't pay random visits. Who do you know who dreams about him at night? Even in nightmares? When he wants to make a point, he makes it. You all know it to be true." As she spoke, her melodic voice carried lightly, but it was strong. Those who hadn't understood her before were now listening. "I don't know a soul who has never crossed Arthas to have dreams about him. Those who have crossed him in life, in death, and in battle—" Iyvee paused, looking down the line that was slowly becoming a group. "You have! He will haunt you for the rest of your days until his soul is destroyed because he feels that he owns you! If he knows you, he knows your loved ones and he feeds on their spirit and fear as well!" She ran a hand through her long, now messy strawberry blonde hair and sighed. "And because he knows Valari, he knows me now, too. I don't know why he's haunted her so, but I know that he has. She has spoken of it in the past. And I don't know why he's taken her, but I know that he has. I haven't seen her in ages and I worry for her so.

"I came here to plead my case to Lady Sylvanas because I know she hates Arthas with a force that I cannot begin to fathom and has more reason than anyone here to do so. I ask for her aid because I don't know what reason he would have to hold my friend. As a warlock, she holds great power, but she would never use it for ill." A deep sigh moves Iyvee's body as she fights back tears she's only just noticed. "I don't know where else to turn." And it was true

Iyvee glanced down at a skittering cockroach who'd decided that making a run for a tiny hole in the wall right now was a good plan. No one really said anything or was entirely sure of what to say. This small elf had made a powerful impression that no one could argue with. Many of them knew of the horror that Arthas brought to them and to their loved ones. No one in their right mind would willingly make up stories of the Lich King to gain audience with Sylvanas. And if they did, they were a fool and well deserved to lose their head.

A tauren death knight who looked as though he'd seen better, simpler times huffed. "Let her see Sylvanas," he said solemnly. Iyvee blinked up at his rumbling voice through the few tears that had spilled. "She has pleaded her case to us and has no quarrel with me. I have no reason to not believe her words. Arthas took whatever enjoyment I may have had in death and now in this unlife. Go, little mage. I fear that you may be correct in his using your friend to usurp whatever peace we may have currently before we are able to defeat him. May the spirits keep you well."

Iyvee watched in a calmed awe as the line who'd listened to her story parted the way for her. Nothing else needed to be said by anyone. Gerald half-sighed with a short nod toward Syvanas's court. "C'mon, then," he muttered. "Follow me. Don't dawdle." And with that, Iyvee wiped at her face, knowing well that Sylvanas wouldn't likely take kindly to tears and would probably see it as a sign of weakness. She fell in behind Gerald and kept in step with him. She had to make Sylvanas understand!

Very soon, they came upon a great entryway that revealed a circular chamber. Sylvanas was seated, speaking in low, hushed tones with what appeared to be one of her advisors. Gerald bowed low as he entered and elbowed Iyvee to do the same. The Banshee Queen raised an eyebrow and placed a hand up to her advisor to cease the conversation for the moment. "What is it, guard? Why have you this blood elf following you?"

Gerald half-stuttered before finally spitting out who Iyvee was and why she was there. "She believes Arthas has, er, taken her warlock friend prisoner, m'lady," he said while eyeballing Iyvee. By the Light, this elf had better be right. "And that there may be more to it than just a kidnapping."

Sylvanas eyes Iyvee up and down and says nothing for a few moments. The few conversations going on amongst her court had since silenced themselves. Who in their right minds would petition Sylvanas for this? Arthas generally took who and what he wanted and killed just as simply. Iyvee holds her chin up, her jaw firmly set and has enough gumption to look Sylvanas in the eye. Her heart was pounding.

Finally, the Lady spoke. "Come forth, mage." She stood up in all her regality as Iyvee closed the steps in between them, stopping just feet from the banshee. "Your friend is a warlock?"

"Indeed, Lady."

"And you fear for her safety as well as your own?" Sylvanas kept a cold exterior, as was per usual. She had no time for games and weakness.

Iyvee nodded. "I do, my Lady. And for everyone else's." Sylvanas's eyes grew slightly wider, though a thin eyebrow remained lifted. "I know not for what reason Arthas would pick just one warlock out of so many. And I do not know what his intentions are, but I do know they are for his own evil gain and purpose. He has invaded my sleep, Lady. He stays silent no more."

A pregnant pause filled the air with an uncomfortable silence. The two of them looked each other in the eye, though Sylvanas stood so much taller than Iyvee's five-foot frame. As the Lady took in Iyvee's presence, she seemed to know all that the blood elf had to say was true and her fears were not without merit. Finally, the Lady spoke in a rather unusually softened tone. "I know your concerns are great, mage, and I, too, fear for the safety of us all. However, as a leader, I cannot risk sending troops to Icecrown to save one, and I would not suggest you go yourself."

Iyvee felt her defeat immediately and released a soft cry. "But, Lady Sylvanas! You have more reason to attack Arthas than almost anyone! He's going to destroy her and use her to kill us all!"

"Silence, mage." Sylvanas's voice was firm, but far from a yell. So far. "You must understand my position as I understand yours. You have my sympathy." And she was determined to say no more. As she turned to walk away, Iyvee made what could have been a fatal mistake: She grabbed Sylvanas's arm and pulled her back. The entire interior of the court gasped.

"No!! Don't do this!" Two guards were on Iyvee like bees on a hive, both of her arms pulled back painfully. Struggling was futile and they began dragging her out. "Please, Lady!"

Sylvanas, amazingly enough, did not strike Iyvee, nor did she make much of an attempt to stop her guards. Her eyes narrowed slightly in what seemed to be a flash of compassion mixed with annoyance. "You'll do wise to live your own life, mage. Don't let Arthas take what you have left." She watched as Iyvee was literally dragged out, mostly kicking and with more frustration than screaming.

As they were heading out, a soldier who appeared to be on official business was heading in. He'd heard the random whispers amongst the line waiting to see Sylvanas about some little bardic mage who had a friend in danger and something to do with Arthas. People were mostly crazy and would want to see Lady Sylvanas for the strangest of reasons. And he would've ignored the guards removing the insane person from the court if he hadn't caught a flash of a recognized guitar strapped to the mage's back. Wide-eyed, he stopped and turned to verify what his gut was telling him. "Iyvee?"

She heard her name echo from the stone walls and stopped struggling against the guards who held her steadfast. She couldn't believe her eyes and wondered for a second if Arthas wasn't playing his game. "Vaspien?!"

Vaspien's mouth opened and closed like a fish while he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say or do. Iyvee had never been one to get herself in over her head and surely not with a leader of Azeroth. "STOP!" he yelled to the guards. "Wait!" He turned to Sylvanas and wondered just how he was going to get Iyvee out of this one. He hadn't seen her since… well. It had been a long time. "My lady," he said, bowing at the waist. "I come with word from the front, but please let her be. I know her well and she means no harm."

The guards stopped and turned to await Sylvanas's word. Vaspien was a member of the Argent and working in the plans for an assault against Icecrown. He was seen often delivering word to Sylvanas so no one usually questioned his motives.

Sylvanas sneered at Vaspien. "She asked for help in rescuing her friend from Arthas in a maneuver we can ill afford." She lowered her hand at the guards, bidding them to release Iyvee. The girl nearly fell as they roughly put her on her feet.

"A friend, Lady?" Vaspien narrowed his eyes and turned to look at Iyvee who met his gaze with her own. The expression in her eyes told him all he needed to know. The whispers from the people in the walkway about Iyvee and her friend. The nightmares that had him in a death struggle with Arthas for the last few nights. It was Valari.

"_He knows you, too, Vas."_

And he had abandoned both her and Iyvee for the good of Azeroth. But now, it was different.

Vaspien's jaw clenched as he turned back to Sylvanas. "Lady, I know Valari well. And I know Iyvee speaks the truth. He has begun his onslaught. We cannot allow Arthas this."

Sylvanas looked between the two of them thoughtfully, catching on to something she likely would not have noticed before with a casual glance. After a beat, she nodded. "Fair enough, Vaspien. I will not send in an army to save one. You well know that this cannot be afforded. However…"

The next thing Iyvee and Vaspien knew, they were heading out of Undercity on order of Lady Sylvanas to capture their objective on a reconnaissance and rescue mission. Their chosen path on their way to Icecrown would be by way of Dalaran. Vaspien glared at Iyvee. "Have you fucking taken leave of your senses?" he whispered harshly, walking past a pair of priests.

Iyvee looked up and glared just as fiercely. "Apparently."

"How the fel are just the two of us supposed to do this?"

"I don't know, Vaspien," she spat, turning a corner to find a reagent vendor. "Your boss gave the orders, not me. Rest assured we have some time between here and Icecrown. You're the soldier. You tell me."

Vaspien gritted his teeth and leaned against a wall as Iyvee made her purchase. He wanted to hate her for getting them into this, but he very well couldn't. He was just as worried about Valari, but had to push it out of his mind to keep it from driving him insane while he worked. He hated it, too, because Iyvee was involved now. And he hated it all because he gave a damn.


	4. Fire and Ice

Iyvee and Vaspien were coming. And she might never have known if Arthas hadn't complained about the damn bullheaded mage and the fellow warlock who served with the Argent and with Sylvanas. There were only two that would ever dare... if they'd known she was here. There was no way they could have known she'd sacrificed life and limb to gain entrance into the citadel. Not unless he'd harassed them somehow.

He'd had her believing that no one gave a shit for her. No one would ever care enough to look for her. At the time she'd first arrived, Valari hadn't needed a source to tell her that nobody cared. Vaspien was long gone. Iyvee just never seemed to be around anymore, though she did send the occasional letter.

So when Arthas came in to see her; to check in on her as it were, Valari was less than the usual 'thrilled' she was so often. She gritted her teeth and pointed at him with an accusatory finger.

"You said you'd leave them alone!"

For the first time in months she felt warm. On fire even. Her temper hadn't flared so high in so long, it had almost lost its familiarity. She rounded on her captor, burning from within with a fiery vengeance. She must have truly impressed him, for his brows shot up, just before his features schooled into a vicious frown.

"Take care of your temper, Valari. It is running away with you."

She ignored the not so veiled threat, the heat of her emotions stoking her to be bold. She stormed toward him. If only she knew just how powerful she looked in the moment, her hair billowing behind her like a curtain of flames, her fel-green eyes sparking with power. Her fragile frame no longer looked weak, but merely a thin veil between reality and the consuming flames within.

"I agreed to remain here, without resistance, if you would only leave them alone. You go back on your word, so I owe you nothing."

They were face to face, her breath turning into mist as it brushed his chin. "You think you can escape?"

"I'll do whatever I must. I'll force you to kill me, which you seem so loath to do."

"You think to thwart me so easily. I hold a piece of your soul, Valari."

"I don't care. You went back on your word, our bargain is void."

She expected pain, agony. She expected retribution. But what came truly rattled her. He turned away from her. She watched him pace to the lone window, and as the silence dragged on, she found it more and more difficult to hold on to that raging anger

"Trust," he said after a long pause. "Is a tenuous thing, is it not, my dear? I acknowledge I broke our...pact."

"You...do?" Valari couldn't help but feel like the rug was going to pulled out from under her any moment.

"In recompense, I will grant you one boon." He turned from the window and strode toward her. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you there are certain things I won't grant. Nor should I have to caution you not to waste it." He stood before her again, lifting her chin with a finger. His features were schooled into a concerned expression. "You are pale, sweet. I will have something sent up for you, and more wood for the fire."

She felt the tension melt out of her, her shoulders sag. She nodded and muttered a thank you. He pressed his iced lips to her forehead, making her shudder. Then he smiled at her, and left her alone in the room, comfortably assuming he'd been forgiven. But he hadn't realized that her downcast eyes had not been out of submission, but to hide the spark that still remained within.

Later, the food was sent up—some sort of mutton with some winter squash on the side and some heavy wine. Valari's appetite was less than agreeing at the moment. More wood was laid on the fire and more stacked tall next to it. It was clear that Arthas meant to keep her here and Valari wasn't content on leaving anytime soon.

At least… not yet.

_((__**AN:**__ Eventide, who has served as inspiration many times over and who, for some reason, finds inspiration in my drivel has contributed her talent to this chapter. She's wonderful and I hereby knight her as my co-conspirator in this story. ;) Thanks a million for your inspiration, being an awesome friend, and being the Best. Beta. Evar.))_


	5. Haggling and Haggis

_**AN**__: Thanks so much for the reviews and adds! This has been a lot of fun to write and the reviews are always welcome! You guys are awesome!_

**~Argent Tournament Grounds~**

They had come here to try and gain heartier supplies from the few dwarves who had set up camp around the goblins (who complained about it taking away money from them, even after the dwarves complained about getting ripped off from the same goblin complainers). As Vaspien came upon a fur trader, he grinned. It was just what they'd need because her robes would be far too thin to withstand the winds that cut like glass. This was a great idea… Except that there must have been a new crew shift because the dwarf, who someone identified as 'Seamus', stood and looked blankly at Vaspien's heroic shopping voice. Iyvee closed her eyes and palmed her forehead as Vaspien tried bargaining with the dwarf. It was too bad neither of them could agree on a language. They could really use the fur where they were going. Sighing deeply, Iyvee shakes her head.

"Bear. RAWR! Fur. F-U-R!" Vaspien exclaimed. "Brr! Grr!" He pointed at the hunter's cloak, then his own money purse. He was starting to yell.

"Vas," she finally said, dropping her hand. Wow, she had a headache… though she wasn't entirely sure it was sudden. He kept talking to a bewildered and pissed-off looking dwarf. "Vaspien!" The warlock finally turned around in a huff.

"WHAT?!" Vaspien snarled, his arms flailing. "What, Iyvee? What the hell do you want? Can't you see I'm working here?"

Iyvee's eyebrow shot up and she fought back the need to cast a frostfire spell at him. "He's not deaf, Vas. You yelling at him gets nobody anywhere and I'm surprised he hasn't shot you yet." Her hands landed on her hips as she shakes her head. Was he serious? "You're a damn soldier working for the Argent. And you can't speak dwarfish or a common language?"

Vaspien growled at her. Literally. "Well, you're not one, Iyvee Nerezz, so shut the fuck up. I don't see you trying to get us supplies for this damn excursion." For some strange reason, that stung him inside. He'd never reacted like that towards her. It gave him a soured feeling on his tongue and his expression mellowed a bit. It wasn't like she wasn't trying, though the fact of the matter was, she seemed to be better at bartering with the Alliance than he was… even though he worked with them regularly.

She blinks at his venom aimed at her, feeling a slight twinge in her stomach that felt slightly like being stabbed with a dirk. She knew Vas was upset with the entire situation, just like she was. For the moment, taking it personally would be a silly thing. Shaking it off, Iyvee walks over to the now bewildered looking dwarf who was thinking the exchange between the two was either a lovers' spat or she was criticizing him for yelling at someone who didn't understand. Seamus hoped it was the second one. The male was becoming obnoxious.

"Think you can do any better, Iyvee?" Vas curled his lip in a half-snarl and backed off.

"Probably," she answers. "Give me your purse." Vaspien shot her a look before he handed it to her. He disliked letting her have the last word on it.

Fortunately for the two of them, Iyvee had picked up enough of the common language while she was more of a full-time bard. She had to be able to perform songs to get the interest of paying people. And a lot of the elvish songs she knew didn't often translate well. She generally performed in neutral taverns and inns. Horde taverns often grew too much on her and Alliance… well, let's just say neutral places were better off for her. And if Iyvee had learned anything, it was that six phrases often got you far in any language:

Hello. Goodbye. Yes. No. How much? Where's the lavatory?

Being able to count didn't hurt, either.

Iyvee was still mystified that Vaspien didn't know any common language. It was either that or he just enjoyed being an ass. She pats the bear fur and smiles at Seamus. _"How much?"_

The light went on in Seamus's eyes and he grinned. "For you? Two hundred apiece." Vaspien and Iyvee blink at him for a moment. The hunter laughed and adjusted the rifle over his shoulder. "Don' look so surprised, lass. I just wanted ta have a bit o' fun with the lad. I see plenty o' elves and yer faction in through here. I'd be stupid to not learn some of the language." He chuckles heartily and somewhere in the midst of it all, Iyvee follows suit. She'd be losing her mind if she didn't.

Vaspien, however, found no good humor in any of it and growled, stomping away to find a goblin who seemed far more sane than Iyvee. Or the dwarf.

Seamus clears his throat, nodding towards Vaspien as he exited. "Sorry about yer boyo there, lass. Seems he's not a humorous sort."

Iyvee sighs softly and shrugs. "He has his moments, friend. It's just that he's got a lot on his plate right now, along with myself." She reaches into Vaspien's purse and counts out the owed gold. "We've been sent on a mission by Sylvanas to rescue a friend of ours from Arthas. We don't have a clue as to why he's holding her captive." Finally looking up at Seamus, she holds out the money to him and smiles warmly. "You're more than kind."

Seamus nods, knowing well that they all fought a battle against Arthas; Horde and Alliance alike. "Aye, lass. As are ye." He takes the gold from her and lifts up the two heavy bear fur cloaks. "These'll protect ya from the most bitter winds and keep ye warm in yer camps at night. They may not be magical, but I think ye'll find them most helpful, lass." Iyvee gathers them up into her arms. They weighed a ton together! Nevertheless, she smiles down at Seamus and nods.

"Thank you, hunter. Be safe and well in your travels." Her arms are full of fur, her hands gripping Vaspien's purse and keeping the bear fur up. She turns away, off to find Vaspien.

"Aye, lass. Bless ye and yer friends." Seamus thinks to himself that the two elves made a strange pair of rescuers, but he wished them well just the same. Not all Horde were completely selfish. He purses the money and goes about his business, restacking the furs to be presentable.

Iyvee finally caught up with Vaspien on the other side of the marketplace. He was leaning against the wall and brooding. A lot. She sighed at him, trying to shift the weight in her arms so she could give him his purse back. "I'll pay for mine before we settle down for the night. Here." Her hand gripping the purse jutted towards him and he grabbed it away.

"Stupid dwarf," he muttered. "Why the hell didn't he just say he could speak Thalassian? And for that matter, why didn't you tell me you could speak Common?" Vaspien secured his purse at his side. "Dirty trick, Iyvee."

She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I had to learn a lot when I was still a bard, Vas. You don't get paid overly well if you can only communicate in one language." Iyvee managed to shove a cloak at Vaspien, lightening her load. She was less than thrilled with Vas at the moment, but it wasn't his fault. Even though he was being pissy with her. She looked him over for a long moment, feeling an old, nearly forgotten twinge in her stomach that was reminiscent of butterflies and she pushes it away in her mind. _'Silly Iyvee,'_ she scolded herself. _'Some things are best left forgotten.'_ "Hey," she says finally, deciding to throw her cloak over her shoulders. "Are you hungry? I think I saw a dwarf selling haggis up the street."

Vas looked up at her with half a grin as she mentioned haggis. Iyvee was a lot easier on the eyes than the mud he was staring at. "Yeah," he answers. "Still mad at you, though." He pulled himself away from the wall and nods toward the food vendor down the path as he began to walk.

"Yeah," the smaller elf says under her breath, having to walk a little faster to keep up with his wide steps. "Yeah, Vas. I know."


End file.
